


Vedasto

by CelestialHotdogs



Category: Karanduun, karanduun-Hiraya
Genre: Murder, Other, andito si Tizon kinda, how to bury bodies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:33:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26281207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialHotdogs/pseuds/CelestialHotdogs
Summary: PrEEEEEEEEEEE PAHABOL LANG
Relationships: walang ship pare
Kudos: 3





	Vedasto

The man was limping. He walked as if the world rested upon his injured leg. But Vedasto’s axe is heavier. With one powerful swing, he cleaved through the man’s body with such ease, it was like slicing through butter. Now the man lay dead in front of him, a pool of blood starts spreading beneath the body. It was messy, but Vedasto knew that. He was prepared for this; in fact, he was prepared for anything. That’s why he let the man run into the woods. He just picked his own grave without knowing it.

What did this man ever do to him?  
Nothing… but he was harassing Vedasto’s mother non-stop and that made him very displeased.

 _“Dig vertically. Chop the body into pieces that would be small enough to fit a hole about 8 feet deep and three feet wide. Cover it with dirt for a few feet then put a dead animal over it before covering it completely. Make sure you leave no evidence behind._ ” These were words said to him by an old grave keeper back when it was his first time killing. He was so shaken he couldn’t even light a cigarette properly. He called the only person he could trust at that time. Not his parents, of course, it was someone else.  
In his head, he repeated the grave keeper’s words like a mantra. At first it was just to remind himself and to calm him down. Now it’s just a habit to keep him sane while digging.  
  
Vedasto never liked killing, but he didn’t hate it either. He never felt thrilled by it, or comforted by it. He’s just… there… ready to deliver a fate more merciful that what they deserved. No, he doesn’t feel like a good person for doing it. In fact, he doesn’t think he’s a good person at all. He hates himself. As much as possible, he makes himself suffer. He hates being Vedasto.

He’s done covering the hole. He hid the shovel in a place no one would look for and left the woods.

It was a quiet night… as quiet as Paro can be at least. He walks along the streets bathed in neon lights. The sound of music from the bars he wound pass by is muffled by the roaring of the hanging train passing over their heads. After that, only the distant songs and cries of drunken men. A quiet night.

Vedasto’s anting-anting vibrated.

“Are you free tonight?”  
It was from an unsaved contact but He knew exactly it was. He didn’t answer. He just pocketed his anting-anting away. He wasn’t in a mood for another burial.

He stopped in front of a bar called T-zone. He saw one of his friends waiting for him at the entrance. The tall hooded figure wearing a wooden wolf’s mask approached him and said, “Oh great, you’re here. Kajo has been looking everywhere for you. The gig is about to start.

“Oh, sorry, I ran an errand on my way here.”

The masked man, Crispin (Vedasto and the others never really knew if that’s his real name), nods. “oh, and before we go inside.” He hands him a bottle of perfume. “You might want to put this on. You reek of blood, Salome.”  
  
“Ah, thanks.” Salome… he liked being Salome. Salome was carefree and affectionate compared to Vedasto. He sprayed the perfume all over his body and handed it to back to Crispin. They both nod at eachother before entering the bar. They were greeted by people cheering and chanting their band’s name. Salome worked up a smug smile before running up the stage with Crispin.

**Author's Note:**

> PrEEEEEEEEEEE PAHABOL LANG


End file.
